


Til the Stars Go Cold

by cipherninethousand



Series: Wrath of Empires [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Just to be safe, Non-Outlander KOTFE reunion, Torture, kotfe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8606773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cipherninethousand/pseuds/cipherninethousand
Summary: An argument when Zakuul had arrived had driven them apart, but Andronikos meant what he said.  They're in each other's orbits till the stars go cold.





	

**Author's Note:**

> H'ashura's appearance can be found here: http://i.imgur.com/4W7Oc9u.png
> 
>  
> 
> Come join me at cipherninethousand on Tumblr!

Tatooine, 3630 BBY – Mos Ila

 

Just off the main drag in Mos Ila sits a small, dusty cantina.  Avoided by Imperials, largely ignored by spies, it is often a favorite of bounty hunters and spacers looking to quench their thirst before heading into the desert.  The customers tumbling into the bar, however, are neither.

Pirates all, they tumble in the door.  Rough, loud, celebrating something, they head straight for the rear of the room and a group of empty tables.  Beyond the pirates there are only a few regulars, farmers and the like, along with one offworlder.  The bartender has long since ignored him -- the man hasn’t bought a fresh drink in nearly an hour -- and turns a hopeful gaze on the pirates.

Hopefully he won’t have to call security on this lot.

A woman breaks away from them pirates.  Their captain, perhaps.  Tall, dark haired and tattooed, she steps up to the bar with a fistful of credits, dumping them on the smooth wood. “A round for my friends and a glass of Corellian red, if you’ve got it.”  

At the sight the bartender shoves his other customer aside. “Beat it Revel!  I got paying customers.”  He punches a few things into his terminal, before an ancient serving droid toddles off with a tray full of drinks.  “I said, buy something or beat it.”

Revel pats his pockets for more credits, but comes up empty.  Next to him, the pirate smiles as she waits for her own drink.  At least until ‘Revel’ registers in her mind.  “Wait.  You wouldn’t be talking about Andronikos Revel, would you?  The Revel, captain of the Sky Princess?”

He only offers a shrug.

The barman comes back with a glass of red, still glaring at Revel.  He’s about to shoo the man off, but is halted by the pirate’s next offer. “I’ve got whatever Master Revel wants, too.  That is...if you are Andronikos.” She says. “Take your pick.”

“That’s me.  Another whiskey,” Revel finally says.

There’s no thank you when his tumbler is refilled.  No further conversation is offered, but it is not a deterrent to the pretty pirate.

She offers a hand to shake. “Shandre Tevos, captain of the Starhawk.  Can’t believe you’d slum it here with the rest of us.  Thought you were with some Sith lord.”

He doesn't answer or take her hand, choosing to glare at her over his drink instead. Still, she powers on; she's heard about all his former exploits, and the rumor mill had gone crazy when he'd partnered up with a Sith. Well, supposedly he'd partnered up with one. “Is it true? You really gave up piracy to hang onto some Sith?”

“I didn't ‘give up.’ She hired me and I got to do the same thing I always did. Fly ships and plunder,” Andronikos says, flatly. “Nothin’ else to it. You want stories, go somewhere else.”

That's it, end of conversation. He has no desire to talk about old heists with some pup who wants glory and gold.

Shandre leans in just enough to block him from leaving. “Guess they do have a lot of credits. Still, there's got to be more to it than that. You don’t just up and go legit for...what? Four years? Five? That's an awful long time to stick around Sith, unless you’re their pet.”

“Ain't no one's pet.”

Time to go. Andronikos slides from his barstool, angling for the door. If Tevos can't take a hint from that he'll let someone else take care of her wide eyed idealism, but he's not in the mood to shoot her just yet. Behind him, her smile turns razor sharp, and she pulls a blaster from her hip.

“Going somewhere? I asked you a question and you haven’t answered yet,” Shandre says.

“Don't you know when to bug off? Got nothin’ to tell, and I haven't seen a Sith since Zakuul rolled in.” He says. “I'm outta here.”

Before he can draw his own blasters, Shandre whistles. Two high, sharp notes is all that it takes to stop the carousing of her crew, who all crowd around him. His infamy's coming back to bite him, and the bartender isn't going to do shit. So he does the sensible thing (as one does when you're outnumbered), raising his hands above his shoulders.

Shandre's still smiling. “You missed the part where I gave you a choice. Now boys, why don't you show Master Revel those stun cuffs you brought from the ship?”

One of the pirates snickers 'not the right cuffs, boss!' though he moves to yank Andronikos’ hands behind his back, tying them there.

“My mistake. In that case, kindly escort him back to the Starhawk. You can show him the real ones.”

-...--...--...--...--...--...--...--...-

Odessen, War Room

“As I said earlier, pirate activity has increased at an alarming rate along the Outer Rim,” says Lana Beniko, drawing up a holomap of recent targets. “They aren't stealing from Zakuul. I'd offer to help if they were. Still they are growing bolder, stealing straight from Republic and Imperial outposts, even entire research fleets. All force artifacts.”

Commander Srin'na steps up to the war table, tapping a lek against her arm. She points to an icon raised above Tatooine. “What use could pirates have for holocrons and histories?”

“Zakuulans are fascinated by our Force users.” Darth Nox says. Her turn to step forward now. “They're selling them.”

The war council goes silent for a moment before the Commander points again at the icon she'd brought up. “This research base, in the wastes. H'ashura, isn't this one of yours?”

Nox, who had appeared calm until that point, bares her teeth. “That explains perfectly why I haven't gotten an update in days.”

Lana offers to get a team together. They can locate the ship that raided Darth Nox's base – as well as be in and out – before the pirates can get to Zakuul. A team of five can safely do it. As much as the artifacts are a danger, Sana Rae and her enclave could use them. They'll need every shred of help that they can muster to go against Zakuul's new empress.

“Send two teams. Lana's can start combing the Spire while the second searches for the pirates that raided the others. I'll retrieve the artifacts from Tatooine myself,” says Nox.

“Those pirates are long gone.  Do you even have any leads?” Theron asks.

Nox gives Theron a crooked grin before speaking again. “I don't need leads. Every crate in that base has tracking devices built into them.” The zabrak pulls a beeping remote from her pocket; when she presses the button it grows louder. “Three hours and I'll know where all of them are.”

“Then it's decided. Those artifacts shouldn't be sold. There's no telling what they can do to normal people.”

Nox nods, still seething. Lana wisely has remained on the other side of the war table, as has the rest of Srin'na's war council. “I'll have someone ready the Strike at once. Do you have a particular squad in mind, dark lord?”

She nods again. “Talos and Xalek will do.”

“At once.”

Lana turns away with the rest as Nox begins to pace. Srin'na laughs a little. Only a little, enough to draw Nox from her stupor, and to make her stop. “It's as though we've never left the Empire.” She sobers. “Are you sure that you don't need a larger crew?”

“I took down Thanaton with only a handful of people, I can handle a few pirates. They will pay for stealing from me.”

-...--...--...--...--...--...--...--...--...-

The Starhawk, Outer Rim

Standing outside Andronikos’ cell, Shandre Tevos’ anger grows deeper. Bruised, bloody, and he’s still stubborn as a bantha, even when she's deprived him of food for two days.

“Tell me where the rest of the strongholds are.”

“Or what? Gonna kill me?” Andronikos laughs, then spits at the transparisteel separating them.

Shandre almost slams her fist into the transparisteel. Almost. But doing that would mean that Revel wins and she won't let him. Instead, she breathes deep, smoothing her face into a serene expression. “Maybe I went about this the wrong way,” she purrs. “You don't want to roll over on a good thing. I get that. But Zakuulans are stupid. They'll pay you your weight in credits for a single holocron.” Shandre opens the cell door now, crouching so she can look Andronikos in the eye. “Put it this way. Help us get into the rest of the strongholds; we’ll cut you in. You'll make enough credits to retire a hundred times over and she'll never know.”

Even cuffed and losing Andronikos manages to look unimpressed. “Not helping you.”

“All right then, Captain. Oh, excuse me, Master Revel. You're not a captain any more. We'll do this my way.”

She whistles again, sharper, to draw more guards. Two pirates drag Andronikos from his cell and free his hands, only to cuff them in front of him before they shove him. Up and around a corner they drag him, down into a dark hallway behind Captain Tevos. He tries to keep track of where they are – counting doors, panels, hell, even steps, but Tevos' goons are walking just quickly enough that Andronikos can't keep count.

Shit.

About now he'd give his left arm for his wife to show up and save him, or shoot him. He's not picky. And damn it his arm's still there. No rescue. He'll just have to bide his time for now, because pup that she is, Tevos will get sloppy and he'll get loose. That thought crosses his mind just as they round one more corner, and shit, bright; he lifts his arms to cover his face and the goon behind him jabs him with a pike. When his arms drop, he feels the cuffs shift.

Tevos spares him a glance over her shoulder as she steps into the hold, and waves them to the side. The pike jabs Andronikos again, sending him stumbling forward. Tevos isn't far. She's standing off to the left of him and glaring.

“Last chance, Revel. Tell us where her strongholds are or I'm done playing nice.”

“Got nothin' to tell you, pest.”

Tevos kicks him in the shoulder, hard. Andronikos hits the floor, unable to balance, adding a bruise to the myriad they've given him since he was caught; his muscles are screaming in protest, but she's not even begun to beat him, not yet.

“You're getting us into her other strongholds.” It is not a question. She steps over him before she presses her boot into his chest. Andronikos doesn't say a word. “Tell me.”

“Say I got you into one,” says Andronikos, pinned to the floor by the captain's boot, “Wouldn’t do you any good, cuz there isn't anything there. Nox is missing. Cleared out all her artifacts when she ran.”

Shandre moves up to where his hands are pinned.  Andronikos tenses, waiting for a kick to the arm -- it doesn’t come, and she puts her boot over a finger. Just a toe over his pinkie. “Bullshit.  Try again.” When Andronikos doesn’t answer she begins to push.

Harder.  Harder again until Andronikos’ finger snaps beneath the pressure.  He grunts, but still doesn’t breathe a word.

“What should I break next?  Another finger?” A cheer from the gathered pirates. “A rib, maybe?”  The cheer is much louder the second time. “Rib it is then.”

Tevos backs up, running her boot down his side as if to decide exactly which rib she’s going to break. She drags her foot back, just before a crack ricochets around the hold and fire screams across his side. “That place on Tatooine was filled with crates, every one of them full of Sithy garbage! Tell me where her strongholds are, wastoid!”

“Broken holo, ain't ya? I'm not telling you shit. Nox is missing.” He says.

Tevos steps back further, mouth open to order her crew to beat Andronikos into paste.  But she doesn't even get to draw breath before the Starhawk shudders from impact, and she's drowned out by a proximity alarm.

“Damn it! You,” Tevos points, “And you, guard this idiot. I'll deal with him after we get rid of these intruders.”

The goon squad (minus two) is gone before Andronikos' next breath. He waits until the two get closer to the door, then tests the cuffs. Maybe, just maybe the shift from earlier wasn't a fluke, and, yes, one opens just a hair. A little more wiggling gets one hand free, so that Andronikos can maneuver himself enough to pry open the other.

Luckily for him, the guards are too focused on the proximity alarm, so he sits up (gently), so that he can push up to his feet and creep behind one of the crates. All are marked with a familiar symbol -- each and every crate bears the seal of Darth Nox's cult, and if they came from the research base on Tatooine, Andronikos would bet money that they took the ones from their quarters too. So he slips through the crates, (listening carefully for goons) until he comes across one with his wife's personal seal, a stylized version of her facial tattoos. Jackpot.

He tries the closest one, which beeps softly when Andronikos types in a code. Thank the Force, or the Maker or whatever that it was still the same. Inside is a spare kit with armor, kolto and blasters. The kolto won't completely heal his wounds, but it will make sneaking out in the chaos far easier.

-...--...--...--...--...--...--...-

The Strike, Bridge

The Starhawk is in sight, just drifting, and the tracker in H'ashura's hand grows louder each minute. Xalek stands from the co-pilot's seat. “I can fire when ready, Master.”

The Force shrieks in her mind. No! No! Don't destroy it!

“...Not yet. We'll blast this wreck into slag when we leave. Prepare the docking tube for boarding.”

She cannot tell if Xalek is smiling beneath his mask, but there is a warm, vindictive sense of satisfaction bleeding from him as he follows orders.

The Strike connects forcefully with the Starhawk's port side and H'ashura's face splits into a grin. On the approach she could see that the ship wasn't overly large, though there should be enough pirates for her to work through her rage.

“Talos, be sure that the docking tube is secure. We have pirates to kill.”

Talos grimaces, though he does as ordered. “Ready, my lord.”

H'ashura checks her saber one last time, then walks to the airlock. Xalek and Talos flank her on either side, falling into honor guard formation. Three, two and a hiss open the docking tube, where H'ashura can see the pirate vessel at the end, while a proximity alarm blares in the distance. They step in unison do the end of the tube, where Xalek has the honor of first kill – two halves of a pirate go flying into the corridor of the Starhawk.

“The signal is coming from the hold. Kill them all.”

-...--...--...--...--...--...--...-

Starhawk, hold

The kolto finally takes effect, and Tevos' guards haven't checked on him once. If this were the Sky Princess Andronikos would have shot them on principle. Still, no time to reminisce, he's gotta get out of here while the getting's good.

Out from behind the crate, slowly. Both 'guards' are still lounging around the door to the hold, looking bored. The proximity alarm is still blaring. Andronikos sneaks from crate to crate, blasters in hand, careful not to make any noise. Just a little further. One shot, then two -- both guards collapse.

He rolls one over to check for detonators. Nothing.  Not even a vibroknife.  Shoddy bunch, this one.

Oh well, he's done better with worse. Tevos hadn't bothered blindfolding Andronikos when he was brought aboard, so he remembers coming through the port side of the ship where a tiny hangar housed an escape shuttle. This kind of ship, there's escape pods that are closer. He knows it.

But a decade after he drifted in one and he still can't shake the fear. If it's the pods or Hell, he'll choose hell in a second.

Back into the hall he hangs a right; this one's better lit than the one from earlier, with no sign of Tevos herself. Just a few pirates, scattered, though it sets a bad feeling in his gut. One by one he shoots them as he gets closer to the hangar. 

Still no sign of Tevos. But there are dead pirates.

Several of them, in fact. Andronikos can see blaster marks on a few of them, but there is one that's decapitated; poor bastard didn't even get to draw his blaster before he got killed. The feeling in his gut grows worse.

Jedi?

Sith?

Can't be Jedi, he thinks. They have something against decapitation. Could be Zakuul. Not likely, because they like to take prisoners. Shit, that only leaves Sith. Could be good, could be bad, could even be really bad. “Shit. Shit!”

The hum of a lightsaber cuts through the air as Andronikos rounds the next corner, deafening as it flies towards him. He ducks backward, slamming himself (and his broken rib) into the wall with a yelp, but it misses, just barely. The owner steps forward, raising her lightsaber to kill ---

“Andronikos?”

“Sith?”

H'ashura steps backwards all at once. Her saber flickers off as she stares at him. “Why are you...?”

“I'd catch up, but I’m kinda in the middle of...something.”

She steps closer. Her eyes flicker over Andronikos' face; she can see the blood, smell kolto on him. She reaches up as if to touch him, but at the last second, H'ashura yanks her hand back as if burnt. “Talos, fix him up.” 

Talos shuffles obediently forward with a scanner in hand, and a few seconds later injects more kolto around his cracked rib.

“Thanks.”

“Oh, don't thank me!” Chirps Talos. “Your rib isn't completely healed, but you should be able to move more easily.  That finger could use setting, too. Really, your best bet would be to soak in a kolto tank for a few hours. Perhaps a day?”

“Later. We have pirates to kill now,” H'ashura snaps. “I hope that doesn't include you.”

“Kriff no. These jerks jumped me on Tatooine. Beat the crap out of me when I told them to buzz off.” Andronikos tells her.

She relaxes a little more. There's no smile (and she’s yet to touch him), but it's a start. “We'll fix you up properly when we get back to the Strike.”

“Guess you're here for Tevos, huh?”

A nod.

Xalek takes point, saberstaff humming at his side, while Talos fusses to the rear. He doesn't actually contradict H'ashura, though it looks to be a near thing with the way he's side eyeing Andronikos' injuries. With H'ashura and Andronikos in the middle, they go. She's making a beeline for the hold.

A hundred things race through his mind, but he settles on “Shouldn't be any pirates, I killed them,” as they file back to the rear of the ship. She's clearly been with people who've made her eat regularly instead of the way she’d been when he’d left, ribs showing, unkempt clothes. Her hair's gotten longer too -- brushed back neatly over her horns into a single plait which spills down her back. Even her clothes are neat, functional, and he guesses as fashionable as they were when they were running around with the Wrath and her crew. Her head turns when she asks a question, and Andronikos stares at the wall like he'd been doing nothing else.

“You said these pirates caught you. How? Why?”

Slow, steady steps. “Their captain recognized me. Thought she could make me show her your other bases. She didn't like my answer.”

H'ashura says nothing further, not until they reach the hold. The dead guards are gone, kicked off to the side, and from here they can all see Tevos – pacing inside like an angry nexu.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Xalek looks ready to charge, though he holds when H'ashura calls a halt.

It takes nearly no time to lay out a plan: Xalek and Talos will fan out to the sides, with Talos as bait so that Xalek can flank her. There are two lieutenants standing near her to be picked off at will. When Talos is close enough to Captain Tevos, Andronikos and H'ashura will come in to hit her from long range with lightning and blaster fire. She will not be a prisoner.

“Go!” H'ashura hisses.

Xalek and Talos jump in without issue, all going well, until Talos misses a fast approaching lieutenant who gets him in the arm with a blaster bolt. Andronikos had picked off one from where he stood, but Talos isn't quite quick enough to respond.

Instead, H'ashura picks off the second lieutenant with a blast of lightning. Captain Tevos, distracted tries to fire on Talos. Too late. Xalek leaps on her the moment that his master raises her hand for a second bolt of lightning, cutting down.

Still frozen in anger, Captain Tevos crumples, and her head rolls gently to H’ashura’s feet.  She kicks it away.

Beyond Talos’ arm, there are no further injuries.

“Xalek, contact the Alliance. They can recover the less dangerous artifacts; we'll take the dangerous ones with us.”

“Let me help you with that Lord Xalek. Unless you required my services, my Lord?”

H'ashura waves them both away, finally leaving her alone with Andronikos.

“Meant to tell you, I had to open one of the crates for supplies. Tevos confiscated all my gear,” Andronikos says, unable to hold back.

His wife's eyes flick to him. For the first time since she found him, she smiles, if only just a little. “You made use of it. That gear was supposed to be yours.” She walks to the open crate, levitating two next to it. “Here. I've got what I need. Let's get you back to the Strike to get fixed up, then you can go where you want. We'll drop you off at the nearest port if you – ”

He doesn't want. That stupid fight still rings in his mind; it's why he was drinking himself stupid in the first place. “Wait!  Wait, you crazy Sith!”

H’ashura stops again.  She stares at him with a little apprehension, and maybe a tiny bit of hope.

“I’m only gonna ask once. Do you want me here?”

H’ashura crosses her arms. “After that fight, I wasn’t sure there was a choice.  You left.  I stayed.”

“Not the question, Sith.”

She curls in on herself.  For a moment, Andronikos swears that he can feel the Force radiating from her, irritation and nerves in tandem before it’s gone, bringing his wife to him in a single step.  Something’s muttered just before H’ashura cradles his face in her hands, Andronikos leaning in without hesitation to press their lips together.  Her lips are chapped, and he probably smells like the wrong end of a bantha and he wouldn’t change it for the whole galaxy.  They part only when they have to breathe, as H’ashura rests her forehead against his shoulder.

“I swear if you ruin this moment by complaining about my horns, I am going to blast you through the wall.”


End file.
